


Memory Traces

by imadra_blue



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Canon - Video Game, Complete, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadra_blue/pseuds/imadra_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the GFs burn away his memory, Squall meets Seifer as an adult and realizes Seifer is what he remembers the most.  (REVISED AND UPDATED--Please check the notes for details.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwayLaughing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/gifts).



> Written by AwayLaughing's request for guessing one of my Yuletide fics.
> 
> NOTE: This fic was updated and revised on 06/10/2014. The original felt unfinished and weak, so I added another chapter and changed the title to reflect the new material. New material was also added to the end of the first chapter to provide a bridge to the new second chapter. The rating was also changed to reflect a new explicit sex scene.

...

Squall was pretty sure he'd had worse ideas than showing up to this particular nightclub in Dollet. But he was having trouble comparing them. Maybe driving a car straight at a Sorceress? His memory, as always, was fuzzy on the details. What had possessed him to do such a foolish thing was lost, and all that was left was the memory of sitting in the car, knuckles white around the steering wheel, intent on killing someone. Maybe the Sorceress. Maybe Seifer. Most likely Seifer.

Gulping down the rest of his drink, Squall reflected once again the GFs had taken too much from him. They'd already taken Rinoa from him. Somehow, in the midst of his work as field commander for Balamb Garden, he'd forgotten why they should be together. He hadn't exactly forgotten that he loved her, but he forgot all the reasons. It was like cutting out the bottom. Everything had spilled out, leaving him only with an empty shell in the shape of love. When she left, Squall could hardly blame her. They both knew he'd never quit his job, never stop using the GFs. Being a SeeD was his one true love.

A tall, blond man suddenly stopped in front of Squall. His skin gleamed under the fluorescent slight, slick with sweat. The night was hot, and the nightclub hotter, packed as it was with people dancing and drinking. The man's green eyes seemed to burn holes into Squall. Seifer. No GF could make him forget Seifer.

"Do you even know what kind of club this is, Squall?" Seifer's lips peeled back into an expression that was equally likely to be a smile or a sneer.

"Do you?" Squall eyed the half-filled glass in Seifer's hand. He remembered one fight, many years ago, where Seifer had broken a similar glass over Squall's head. He still had that scar, too, though unlike the one on his face, it was hidden by his hair. It was as if his body were a memory road map for his encounters with Seifer. He wondered if this day would be any different.

Seifer chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "'Course I know. Shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone that I like dick, too. More of a surprise for you. Where's Rinoa?"

Squall shrugged. "I have no idea. Galbadia, I suppose. It's her home."

"You two broke up?"

"I wouldn't be here if we hadn't."

People pushed past them, two girls, arms draped over one another, laughing as they walked. Squall noticed them exchange a kiss before turning back to Seifer. Seifer, apparently, had never stopped studying Squall. He took another sip from his glass, green eyes still intently fixed on Squall.

"Well, I guess it's good to see you're still alive, Seifer. See you later," Squall said, and turned away.

Seifer gripped his wrist. "Not so fast."

Squall glanced down at Seifer's hand fixed around his wrist. That, too, was familiar. They had begun many fights that way. It was odd, really. When Squall thought about it, memories of Seifer were perhaps the ones he retained the most, no matter how many GFs he used.

"Why don't we cut through the bullshit?" Squall asked. "You want a fight."

Seifer smirked, his scar crinkling as he did so. "Not a fight, Squall. I want what I always wanted from you. Or did you not realize this is a gay nightclub?"

"What you always…." Squall trailed off and stared at Seifer, feeling overly warm. "I know what kind of place this is, Seifer. And even if I didn't, I'd have figured it out after about five minutes after coming in here."

Seifer pulled Squall close, close enough that Squall could smell Seifer's sweat, his cologne, spicy and powerful. Squall tilted his face up. Seifer tilted his down to press his lips to Squall's ear. "Yes or no, Squall? Believe it or not, I can take 'no' for an answer. I'm not a teenager anymore. And neither are you."

Squall shivered a little, his body already thrilling to Seifer's proximity, to his heady scent, to how warm he felt when he stood so close to Squall. In all his memories, Seifer stood out the clearest. The GFs couldn't take him from Squall. That might even mean something.

Gripping Seifer's upper arms, Squall whispered, "Yes."

Seifer paused, as if surprised, and studied Squall intently. Squall stared back. He wondered if Seifer had really meant his offer, or if it had simply been one of his adolescent games carried into adulthood. Squall regretted agreeing so quickly, seeming so eager. Just as he let go of Seifer's arms, Seifer grabbed his wrists and leaned forward.

"Meet me in the hotel in an hour. I'm in Room 18."

===> NEXT ===>


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This new chapter added on 06/10/2014 now completes the story. A small bit of material was added to the end of the previous chapter, so if you read that previously, please check their for the bridge to this new chapter.

…

Squall didn't go to the hotel in an hour. It felt wrong somehow. Out of time, out of place. Left alone without alcohol in his hand, he worried about the consequences. Part of what had always kept him and Seifer in balance had been the tension, the resistance. If he broke that tension, he could upset the balance, and lose everything.

Instead, Squall walked along Dollet's beach, trying to recall what he had done here. He recalled this was where he had come for his SeeD test, but he couldn't recall what happened. As he gazed behind him, studying his footprints in the sand, he felt no stirrings of memory. The GFs had fully taken that moment from him. At least they left him the memory of his graduation afterwards.

"You almost died here."

Squall jumped and turned around, feeling an odd thrill at the sight of Seifer, despite his previous misgivings. Seifer leaned against the railing to the stairs that led up to Dollet's streets. His familiar trenchcoat fluttered in the night air. Even after all these years, he still insisted on wearing it, and it didn't wear its years very well.

"I don't remember," Squall said.

"An X-ATM092 nearly killed you on the beach, but Quistis shot it down just as our boats left. It would have been my fault. I'd been team captain, and I'd abandoned you and the chicken wuss."

As much as Seifer's words seemed to indicate a change in his temperament, his use of "chicken wuss" suggested its limitations. Squall studied him for a moment. "That would explain why I don't recall you at my graduation ceremony."

"Do you recall when I tortured you in the desert prison?"

Squall blinked. The suggestion left him with a hint of anger, but nothing else. "No."

"I do. I remember it all."

"I see."

Seifer studied him, his green eyes murky. "I had wondered if that's why you didn't show. But it looks like all those GFs you use made you forget a lot. I'm surprised you remember me."

Squall tilted his head. "You're difficult to forget."

"Heh. Maybe that's a compliment. Hard to tell from you."

Sighing, Squall looked back at the sea. Seifer had changed so much. He remembered so many things Squall forgot. The mention of torture made Squall think some things were best forgotten, though. "Why'd you torture me?"

"Because I was told to. I didn't have full control of myself. It was me, but it wasn't me." Seifer stared up at the night sky. Dark clouds had gathered and threatened to consume the mood. There would be a storm before the night was through. "But I remember everything I did, even when everything inside my head was twisted by Ultimecia. I'm like the reverse of you, I guess."

"How does it make you feel, to remember that?"

Seifer's glare still proved as hot as Ifrit's. "How do you think it makes me feel?"

"Is that why you invited me to your hotel room? To apologize or something?"

"No, I invited you there so I could fuck your brains out. But I get why you refused."

Squall wondered if his desire to keep the tension, the balance with Seifer, was some leftover trauma. But he doubted that. He couldn't recall the terrible things Seifer had done under a Sorceress's control. It wasn't truly Seifer who had done them, but Ultimecia, acting through her puppets, Seifer and Edea. The more Squall studied Seifer's face, settled now into the chiseled good looks of a grown man, the more Squall suspected he wanted the equilibrium so badly because it provided him with lasting memories of Seifer.

"So, that's all I have to say, really." Seifer stood. Naturally, he'd never truly offered an apology. Squall doubted he ever would. Such things weren't Seifer's style, adult or not. "Nice seeing you again."

Before Seifer turned to leave, Squall reached out and clasped his shoulder. Seifer glanced back at him, his gaze still hot, but now a different sort of hot. Squall wondered if Seifer could continue to provide lasting memories. To offer something immune to GFs, moments fixed in time. If Squall never took the chance, he'd never find out. He'd be left only with old memories, never knowing what new memories he could keep.

"Room 18, right?" Squall asked.

Seifer's lips twitched. "Room 18."

…

Squall gasped, back arching as Seifer continued to suck his cock. He burned with pleasure, his lower body on fire wherever Seifer touched. He gasped again, his gaze fixing on the ceiling without fully comprehending it. Seifer's fingers slid inside of him, coated with some sort of warming oil, and he came with an intense rush. He saw black, then red, then realized he was staring at a slowly rotating fan, dripping with sweat, his body still humming from his ebbing orgasm.

Seifer's fingers spread Squall's opening wider, and Squall squirmed and flicked his gaze towards Seifer's face. He leaned over Squall, his lips wet and swollen as he licked them clean. "Okay?" Seifer whispered.

Squall nodded once, and within a short moment, Seifer pushed inside of him. It burned only a little before Squall adjusted to the feeling Seifer's cock buried inside of him. Once Seifer began thrusting, hitting Squall's sweet spot, over and over, Squall rode it out, clutching Seifer. Pleasure built more quickly this time, and he came again, but more gently, as if in counterpoint to Seifer's own seemingly intense orgasm. He cried Squall's name loudly, giving Squall a final shiver of pleasure as he pressed him back against the mattress.

After Seifer pulled away, Squall continued to lie on the bed. The sheets were still tangled around his ankles, and his shirt, which Seifer had never bothered pulling off, felt a bit cold from his sweat. Seifer's naked back also shone with sweat, and Squall indulged himself by sliding his hand over it, tracing the curves of muscles and bones. Seifer still panted from his exertions, and Squall could feel him breathing. Squall suddenly felt like he wouldn't soon forget this moment.

"That was pretty good, I think," Seifer said, glancing back at Squall, his gaze smoky. "Shame you'll forget it after going back to your GFs."

Squalls fingers stilled. "Maybe I won't."

"You forgot I tortured you. Not that this makes me unhappy, but that doesn't bode well for this."

"Do you think so? It wasn’t really you who did that. But this, this was you. I generally remember you," Squall said.

"You do? Why?" Seifer's brows knitted together.

"Don't know." Squall moved to trace Seifer's facial scar. "But I do."

Seifer blinked once, then ran a finger over Squall's scar in return. The mirrored touch felt oddly electric. "Does that make me special?"

"Maybe."

After a moment, Seifer slid next to Squall and pulled him close. The intimacy was warmer than anything Squall could recall. "Then maybe I ought to stick around. To make sure you remember more," Seifer rumbled.

Squall touched his forehead to Seifer's, so their scars touched. "You do that."

Seifer's hand slid up his thigh, leaving new memory traces across Squall's body.

_End._


End file.
